


Cultural Inappropriation

by bushviper



Series: The Story of E [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Oral Sex, Rape Fantasy, Roleplay, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 08:33:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4131172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bushviper/pseuds/bushviper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor returns from Frostback Basin absolutely obsessed with Avvar culture. Cullen is intrigued when she expresses an interest in a particular courtship ritual...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cultural Inappropriation

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot featuring the same Cullen/Quizzy from "Would You Have Me Beg?"
> 
> I know you can read tags, but please note that this story features roleplay of a rape fantasy, buttsex, and absolutely shameless appropriation of Avvar clothing and customs (it's a culture, not a costume, Evelyn, damn). If that's not your thing, you may want to sit this one out :)

Skyhold was in an uproar.

The Inquisitor had returned from Frostback Basin, and like any time she went anywhere, she'd come back loaded with things she'd collected on her journey. The woman was an absolute magpie – they'd have to build another wing just to hold all of her treasures. The men did seem particularly burdened this time, Cullen thought bemusedly, as they trudged into the keep. Was that a new throne?

Evelyn hadn't come to see him yet, but Cullen wasn't perturbed. She was always overrun by petitioners when she returned from an expedition, and at the very least, he'd see her tonight in her bedchambers. He decided to go over to the Great Hall and watch the men install the new furniture. It certainly looked… rustic. Josephine was probably having kittens.

In fact, the ambassador was standing in the middle of the Hall, arguing heatedly with the Inquisitor.

"Absolutely not, Lady Evelyn! We cannot invite our guests to Skyhold with it looking like a barbarian camp!"

"That's racist, Josephine! They're not barbarians – well all right, they are, but they're also perfectly lovely people and they have an absolutely  _fascinating_  culture. Did you know that their mages are trained by  _spirits?_ "

Cullen's blood ran cold at that, and Josephine looked like she was about to pass out. "Hush! That's blasphemy!"

"Oh no, it's fine, they're not Andrastian." Evelyn shrugged, as if that resolved it. She looked up and saw him standing near the fireplace, and broke into a wide grin. "Cullen! I'm back!"

"So I see," he said warmly. He strode over to her and gave her a brief but promising kiss on the mouth. "And it seems you've brought some new furnishings with you?"

"We're completely redecorating!" Evelyn said happily, while Josie protested that they certainly were not. The Inquisitor ignored her. "I've got new drapes, new chairs and tables, ooohhh and you should see what I brought for the bedroom…"

At her distinctly suggestive tone, Josie threw up her hands and excused herself. "But don't think this is over, Inquisitor. You can have your fun for now, but before our next guests arrive, everything is going back the way it was."

Evelyn looked put out. "Fine. But I think you should be more open-minded. Do you know how the  _Avvar_ settle disputes? They climb this huge wall…" She followed Josie to her office, spouting Avvar facts and apparently forgetting about Cullen for the moment. He grinned and returned to his office. She'd remember him tonight.

…

At the end of a very long day, Cullen locked his doors and went back over to the main building of the keep. It seemed Evelyn had gotten her way. Workers were still busy taking down Inquisition banners and replacing them with bear skins or something. It was too dark to be sure. She'd also brought in some crude stone statues and sawed off sections of logs instead of Josephine's delicate little Orlesian busts and side tables. Poor Lady Montilyet.

He ascended the stairs to Evelyn's quarters, his cock already stiffening in anticipation. They'd been apart nearly two months between his mission to reclaim Therinfal Redoubt and her trip to the Basin. His poor, neglected manhood barely remembered what it was good for.

"Look at all my stuff!" Evelyn said joyfully, by way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, effectively preventing him from admiring her redecorative efforts, but Cullen cared rather more for kissing than new rugs anyway. When she finally let him up for air, he did have a look around her chambers and found them much changed. The pretty Antivan carpets that had been scattered on the floor were replaced with the hides of various animals, and her bed was a stout, rough wooden frame heaped with furs.

"I don't envy the poor sods who had to carry that thing up here," Cullen said. Evelyn nodded in rueful agreement.

"I know, I felt sort of bad about it, but even if Josie makes me change everything back downstairs, I'm keeping the bed. I  _love_  the Avvar, Cullen! They're amazing! Did you know…"

"Evelyn," he interrupted her.

"Yes?" She looked up at him innocently, but her cheeks flushed as he regarded her with an unmistakably hungry gaze.

"You can tell me about the Avvar later," he murmured, bending his neck to kiss her again while his fingers began to work on the buttons of her tunic. "Right now, I have other uses in mind for your mouth."

She shivered in his arms and whimpered a little, but surprised him by pushing back on his chest and withdrawing her lips from his.

"Well actually, Cullen, I really wanted to tell you about one particular Avvar custom that I think you'll find interesting. Won't you have a seat on my adorable new lounge?"

She had replaced the delicate settee near her bed with another enormous, wood-hewn monstrosity covered in furs. Cullen had to admit it looked to be an improvement – her previous sofa had been bloody difficult to get comfortable on if they tried to fool around. Perhaps this one would be more accommodating. He sighed and sat down, growling and pulling her into his lap when she tried to settle next to him.

"Oh, perfect, you've already got the idea," she sighed, turning her head to allow his teeth and lips to attack her neck. He inhaled the scent of her skin that he'd missed so much and went back to work on her buttons, while she slowly rocked her hips against his lap.

"The Avvar have the most fascinating marriage ritual. Well, I supposed it's really more of an engagement ritual," she amended. Cullen opened her tunic to expose her generous tits, capturing a dusky nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. Evelyn moaned and curled her fingers through his hair, distracted from her absurd lecture on Avvar culture, and Cullen thought he was finally getting somewhere. He exhaled in frustration when Evelyn adjusted her position and pulled her nipple away from his lips.

"As I was saying. Avvar men usually try to find brides outside of their hold, as they are likely to be related to most of the women in their clan, obviously." She sighed in pleasure as Cullen palmed her breast and kissed her shoulder, then nuzzled her neck and nipped her ear. He grabbed her backside with both hands and pulled her against him, thrusting his hips up so that his erection rubbed against her crotch. Even through two pairs of breeches, the contact was intoxicating and Cullen hissed. He wanted to be inside her. Now.

"Evelyn, can't we talk about this later?" he asked, a little petulantly. "It's been months. Didn't you miss me?"

He repressed a smirk as his lover opened her eyes wide in horror and then assured him over and over again, while covering his face in kisses, that she had indeed missed him terribly and had thought of little else but being with him again while she was on the road. He leaned back against the surprisingly comfortable new couch and pushed her tunic down her arms while she sighed and arched into him, rocking her hips again.

"Prove it," he said huskily, as he pulled his shirt off and began to unfasten his breeches. "Prove you missed me with your sweet, hot mouth."

Evelyn bit her lip and then reluctantly moved off of his lap and settled against his side, cuddling up under his arm.

"Cullen, my heart, I love you desperately and I promise I will satisfy you in short order, but first I simply  _must_  tell you about the Avvar engagement ritual."

"Maker's breath!" Cullen growled, but he left his pants partially unlaced and turned to look at her, exasperated. "Very well, Inquisitor, you have my full attention. What is so important about this Avvar custom that I cannot hear about it in an hour, after I've thoroughly ravished you – as I so desperately need to do?"

Evelyn's cheeks flushed deeply and her eyes brightened. "That's perfect, hold that thought, and I'll speak quickly. So, when an Avvar man wants to wed, he must find a bride from a different hold, sneak into their camp, and  _kidnap her!_ " She uttered the final words in a scandalized whisper, but the grin lurking in the corners of her mouth suggested that she was more titillated than appalled.

"Has the woman no say in the matter? That really is barbaric!" Cullen frowned.

"Oh, it's usually all arranged with the clan elders beforehand, and the man will often approach his intended directly so she can consent and assist him with his attempt. The barbaric part is what happens if he's caught before he can spirit her out of the hold. On the first attempt, he'll just be beaten by her relatives, but if he's caught on the second attempt, the bride's clan will feed him to their hold-beast!" Evelyn widened her eyes and nodded seriously, clearly trying to impress upon him that such things did happen, but Cullen was confused.

"Their what? Hold-beast?"

"Oh, you haven't met Storvacker yet! You'll love her!" Evelyn grinned but then shook her head. "Anyway, never mind about that. The important part is the kidnapping. The Avvar groom snatches his bride from her clan and then takes her off somewhere, back to his hold or to his camp if the distance is too great, and he  _ravishes_  her! Isn't that exciting?"

Cullen's lip curled up a little. "I suppose for the Avvar bride, it depends upon how much she favors her intended, but I take it the idea appeals to you?"

Evelyn nodded shyly. "I brought back some Avvar clothes – you'll look so delicious in a fur loincloth! And I thought maybe tonight we could pretend…" She trailed off and blushed, then cut her eyes back at him playfully. Cullen laughed and pulled her back into his lap, kissing her hungrily.

"Just so I understand, tonight you want me to dress up like a barbarian and rape you?"

Evelyn laughed and buried her face against his neck in embarrassment, but she nodded, and Cullen tightened his arms around her. How he loved his naughty, funny little former Chantry mouse, who had grown so much bolder in the bedroom since those early days when he'd first taught her to make love. He tried to imagine the Evelyn who had broken up with him in terror two years ago, suggesting that they roleplay such an aggressive fantasy. She wouldn't have been able to squeak out the first word. But even then, she'd liked it when he took charge. Luckily for them both, Cullen enjoyed being in control just as much as she loved allowing it. He kissed her cheek.

"All right, sweetling, your wish is my command. Am I to sneak into your quarters in my loincloth at a later hour and drag you back to my office by your hair?"

Evelyn giggled. "Maker, no, we'd wake up the entire keep. We can just pretend you've already brought me back to your hold here, and get to the part where you claim me as your bride."

The idea of making Evelyn his wife stirred deep emotions within him, and for a second he simply tightened his grip on her hips and looked at her. Then he cleared his throat and grinned. "I don't know, Evelyn, it sounds like we'd be skipping a lot of promising foreplay. I'd have to wrestle you out of your bed, probably bind your hands and feet, no doubt gag you to prevent the aforementioned awakening of the keep…" Evelyn's eyes widened and her breath hitched. "Does that excite you?" he asked, his voice low and dark. It certainly excited him and he offered her a perceptive smile as she nodded.

"In fact," he continued, knowing he was both winding her up and punishing her by delaying their game, "to really appreciate the experience, we ought to wait until you're on the road. Then I can sneak into your camp and  _actually_ kidnap you, cart you off to some cave where no one will hear your cries, and have my way with you for hours..."

" _Cullen,_ " she moaned, squeezing her breasts and moving against him restlessly.

"Shall we put it off? Would you rather be thoroughly Avvarred in the most realistic setting possible?" He had no intention of putting anything off, but he loved to see her stick her lip out in a pout.

"Oh, no,  _please_ don't put it off. That plan sounds wonderful but I don't think it's very practical, and besides I've been fantasizing about this evening for a month. I nearly came in my saddle riding up to Skyhold, just knowing that in a few hours, I'd be in your arms." She ducked her head as she made her declaration, smiling shyly. Cullen loved how she made dirty confessions with such sweet innocence, and he laughed and wound his fingers in her hair.

"Did you now?" he whispered and pulled her mouth to his. "I'm glad you didn't. I'd be awfully cross with you if you satisfied yourself before you let me have a crack at it." He sucked her lower lip between his teeth and nipped it gently.

"I wasn't trying to get off," she protested, pulling away from him, "but it's neither here nor there, because I didn't. I haven't. For a very long time. Will you make me yours, my beautiful barbarian?" She circled her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, pushing her breasts against his bare chest.

"Yes," he said, trailing his fingers down the smooth skin of her back. "The sooner, the better, my filthy-minded little adventurer. I must say, I'll feel rather more positive about the time we must spend apart, if you come back to me each time with new ideas for naughty games."

Evelyn laughed and pushed herself out of his lap. She looked splendid, strolling across the room topless in her well-fitting breeches, and Cullen was content to put his arms behind his head and watch her as she rummaged through a trunk.

"Here we are!" she said brightly, returning with her arms full of more leather and furs. She handed him a pair of boots and what looked like the skins of several animals, and then pointed to the antechamber that she used for storage. "Go in there are get dressed, please, Ser."

"I have no idea how to assemble this costume, Evelyn" he said with consternation. "Won't you help me?"

She shook her head firmly. "I want to see you in it for the first time, fully dressed. You'll just have to figure it out." With that, she gathered up her own pile of skins and withdrew to the second chamber, which she used for her washroom. Cullen exhaled in mock annoyance and carried his new clothes into the store room.

The boots were straightforward enough, but what on earth was he to do with the skins? He laid them out on a crate and examined them. The reddish one could probably be used as a belt, and the buff one would perhaps drape across his shoulders… After a few experiments, he figured it out. One of the skins was worn low on his hips, open at either side, so that flaps of fur and leather covered his dick and his arse and not much else. Another wrapped around his hips over the loincloth, forming a wide belt that sat just below his navel. The third skin was worn like pauldrons across his shoulders. The boots laced up to his knees, and she'd also given him some leather arm bands (decorated with bear teeth) that fit over his biceps, and supple leather gauntlets that fit over his hands and wrists. The gloves had holes where his fingers fit through, so his digits were still exposed.  _Exposed_  described exactly how he felt in such armor; it was a wonder the Avvar men could summon the nerve for battle with their bellies bared and their bollocks flapping freely in the wind. He shook his head, laughing at himself for the things he agreed to do to please his woman, and then stepped back into the bedroom.

Evelyn was still getting dressed, so he looked around the room, marveling at all of her new Avvar-inspired furnishings. She'd even taken down the pretty wrought iron wall sconces and replaced them with what looked like bull's horns. He noticed that the items from her original nightstand were in a neat pile on the floor next to her new piece, which looked like a tree stump but had a panel that swung out to reveal a hollow space for storage. He put away her copy of Ser Vice, the bottle of oil they used to slicken her passage when he took her in the arse, the leather cords with which he had often bound her to the bed… on second thought, he left the oil and the cords on top of the little table. It seemed like that kind of night.

"All right, I'm coming out! Are you ready?" she called from the washroom. Cullen chuckled and stood at the end of the bed with his hands behind his back, charmed by the obvious excitement in her voice.

"Ready, Evelyn."

She popped into the room, grinning broadly, but when she saw Cullen, her mouth dropped open in shock. "Maker's breath, you look  _incredible!_ "

"I could certainly say the same for you!" Cullen said appreciatively.

Evelyn was wearing a hooded top that covered her shoulders and  _just barely_  covered her breasts, leaving most of her lean torso exposed. And if Cullen had thought his own loincloth was skimpy, he'd underestimated what the Avvar women wore. Evelyn's crotch and lovely backside were technically covered by a tiny leather skirt, open at the sides like his own, but it was so short that he could almost see the curve of her arse. While her hands and arms were bare, she wore bands around her thighs like the ones he wore on his arms. Her hair was braided with beads and feathers, tumbling from under the hood across her left shoulder. She looked amazing. And practically naked. The only thing that gave her any decent coverage was her boots, which reached her knees, like his.

"How do they fight in this gear?" he asked her, unable to let go of the thought.

She laughed. "They don't, silly. This is what they wear to their Summerday festival – although they call it something else, of course. I get the impression it's pretty much a giant orgy, but Cassandra was going to kill me if I asked any more questions about their, um… intimate customs, so I let it go."

Cullen laughed and walked over to her, leaning in for a kiss. "Perhaps we should take a vacation to Frostback Basin this Bloomingtide."

"Having an urge to sample some Avvar women?" she asked him playfully.

He grinned. "One in particular. So, what happens now? I have, with manly strength and crafty stealth, successfully snatched you from the tender embrace of your clan, and brought you back to my incredibly well-appointed hold. Do you want me to toss you on the bed now, or…?"

She smiled and bit her lip. "Well, let's pretend I'm not a particularly willing bride. You'll have to fight for what you want from me – I won't surrender easily. And Cullen?" She stepped closer, blushing profusely.

"Evelyn?" He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"I want you to be rough and unkind with me. And… once you have me where you want me, will you tell me what you're going to do before you do it? I just… the way your voice sounds when you're ready for me… especially if I'm trying to fight you… I can't explain it but…"

"You don't have to explain," Cullen said, his cock stiffening. "A rough tumble with plenty of dirty talk, coming right up."

She smiled happily and put her arms around his neck, moving her lips sensually against his. She kissed him so thoroughly and for so long that Cullen was about to pull back and ask her what her definition of "unwilling" was, but then she bit his lip, jabbed him hard in the kidney, twisted out of his embrace, and ran across the room.

Cullen grunted in pain and wiped his mouth, startled to find she'd drawn blood. She really did want to play rough! He rolled his shoulders and glowered, flexing his fingers and stepping towards her. She'd put the bed between them, and when he stalked around the side of it, she tried to dart past him. He reached out and grabbed the hood she wore, which was seamlessly attached to her very tiny vest. She jerked back, nearly losing her balance, but Cullen caught her and threw her onto the bed. Her shirt had ridden up, revealing the undersides of her breasts, and his cock throbbed.

Evelyn rolled to the side and scrambled off the furs, but Cullen grabbed her by the waist and hauled her against his chest, winding her braid around his fist. He tugged on her hair painfully, pulling her head back so that it rested on his shoulder. The fingers on his other hand dug into her hip and she whimpered a little.

"Where do you think you're going?" he growled in her ear. "You're mine now, you know that."

"I'll never be yours!" she spit.

He laughed in her ear. "You already are." He bit her neck sharply, hard enough to leave a bruise, and she jammed her elbow into his ribs and struggled. "Stop it, wife. Your feeble combat is pointless. I'm bigger than you, I'm stronger than you, I'm faster than you, and I  _will_  have you. Now."

As he said this, he moved his hand up her bare belly to her breasts and pushed his fingers under her shirt, toying roughly with her nipple. He gave it an extra hard pinch and then shoved her towards the bed, following her and pressing her face first into the furs. She wiggled delightfully beneath him, and while Cullen,  _of course_ , would never in his life consider taking an unwilling woman, he had to admit that Evelyn's desperate struggle was arousing him powerfully. He also suspected she was just as aroused, and he thrust his hand under her skirt to find out.

"You're as wet as a swamp," he growled in her ear, and she whined into the furs. He let up a little, making sure she could breathe, and she immediately twisted onto her back and began clawing at him, raking her nails down his ribs. He pinned her wrists to the mattress with both hands and forced her legs apart with his knees.

"You're already mine," he told her again, "and your cunt knows it. You need me to claim you, and I need no permission." He crawled up and sat on her stomach, unlacing the ties on her vest. She slapped at his legs and arms, but he ignored her, ripping her top open and exposing her pretty breasts. Her chest heaved as she writhed beneath him, staring up at him resentfully, and he smiled and tugged on her nipples. "You could cooperate, you know. I wouldn't have to use you so roughly if you'd do your wifely duty."

Evelyn scowled. "I have no duty to you, brigand. I'll never be your wife."

"You already  _are_  my wife," he growled. "You became mine the moment I claimed you from your camp." He paused and grinned cruelly at her, licking his thumb and then rubbing it across her nipple. "Do you think I care if I take you like a lover or a brute? I'll get my satisfaction either way. You're the one who will suffer for your pitiful resistance."

She gasped and then cut her eyes to the side. "What do you want from me?" she asked unhappily.

"That's better," he growled, backing up to kneel over her thighs. "For now, I want your mouth." He pushed his loincloth aside – that was convenient! – and thrust his swollen cock at her face. "Suck me well, and perhaps that's all you'll have to do."

Evelyn glared up at him as she slowly closed her lips around his cockhead, and Cullen grunted in pleasure. She looked absolutely delicious, with her tits out and her short skirt riding up and her face flushed and sweaty. He pushed the hooded vest off her shoulders and it dropped down to the bed, but Evelyn made no move to remove it. Cullen grabbed her by the hair and pulled out, smearing her cheek with saliva as his dick bobbed against her face.

"Take it off," he snarled, and she resentfully complied. Then he pressed his cock to her lips again and entered her mouth, thrusting roughly but shallowly. Tears glittered in her eyes as he took her deeper and she gagged a little. Cullen watched her carefully, not wanting to cross the line from rough to too rough, and for a moment her eyes crinkled smilingly before she reassumed her sullen expression. He couldn't help but smile back, a genuine smile, before tightening his fingers in her hair and fucking her mouth more vigorously.

"I lied to you when I said this would be enough," he said, as he pulled his wet cock from her lips. She snarled and he jerked her head back by her hair, forcing her to look up at him in alarm. "Don't even think about using those pretty teeth on any part of me, wife."

She grinned mirthlessly. "My thoughts are my own, swine. You'll feel more than my teeth before the night is over."

Cullen laughed. "That's true. I'll feel your cunt… and your arse." Her eyes widened. "Oh yes, there won't be a part of you I don't know before we're through.  _You're mine._ "

Evelyn pushed back rapidly, nearly catching him in the balls with her knees as she scooted away from him and tried to scramble off the bed. Cullen caught her easily and flipped her over, pressing her once again into the mattress as she wiggled and fought beneath him. He rubbed his cock between her legs as he leaned on her, delighting in how wet she was.

"You want my cock so badly," he hissed.

"I do not," she choked out, turning her head to the side and gulping deep breaths.

"Liar," he said, and pressed his tip against her quim. She moaned softly and arched her back, lifting her hips. Cullen pressed his lips against her ear and licked. "See? You rub against me like a cat in heat. You want this."

"No," Evelyn sobbed, trying to push up on her hands. Still leaning against her back, Cullen grabbed her arms and jerked them forward, forcing her to fall forward on her face. Holding her wrists in one hand, he reached over and grabbed a leather tie from the nightstand. The headboard of the new bed had conveniently placed metal loops screwed into it – Cullen wondered if that was an Avvar invention or Evelyn's own customization. Either way, it suited his purpose nicely as he tied her hands together and then bound them to the bed.

He then turned his attention to her legs, clamping her knee between his own as he went to work on the laces of her boot. Evelyn twisted and turned, hampering him quite a bit, but she was careful not to kick him in the face, which he appreciated. Once he'd gotten her boot off, he tied her ankle to a metal loop on the footboard, then repeated the process with her other leg. At that point, Cullen stood back to admire his handiwork.

It was glorious. He'd tied her up before, but never with this much effort, and wrestling her into place had spurred a powerful need in him to have her, hard and fast. She looked so gorgeous and helpless, panting on the bed with her arms tied in front of her and her legs bound apart. The little loincloth had flipped up so it was just a scrap of leather across her arse, and her wet cunt was totally exposed. Cullen was a bit overwarm from all the exertion and he wanted to feel his skin against her skin, so he peeled off his clothes and boots, leaving on the bracers and armbands. Then he reached down, picked a pillow up off the floor, and stuffed it beneath her pelvis, forcing her arse up into the air. Evelyn moaned a soft  _no._

He knew if she'd meant no, she'd have said a different word, so he knelt between her spread legs and pushed the leather skirt up to her waist. "You're really mine now, wife. There is no longer anything you can do to stop me, or to prevent what's going to happen. Does that frighten you?"

"I'm not afraid of you," she growled.

"Are you afraid of this?" he asked, leaning forward and pressing his dick against her cunt, closing his eyes and trying to summon his resolve as he again felt exactly how wet she was. "Are you afraid of me claiming you now, as I intend to do, and fucking your hot, wet, tight little quim until I grow bored of it and move on to your arse?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," she said, but she trembled.

"Are you sure?" He sat back, stuck his thumb in his mouth to coat it with saliva, and then pressed it against the puckered rosebud of her arse. He slowly pushed into her, gritting his teeth as he imagined the tightness he felt gripping his member. Evelyn gasped.

"You're not afraid of my cock – which by the way, is much larger than my thumb – invading your arse while you lie there helplessly? Unable to do or say anything to stop me from taking you as hard as I want, for as long as I want, until I fill you with my seed?"

She moaned and he felt her tighten around him briefly. A dark wet spot appeared on the pillow beneath her, as her cunny drooled in anticipation of his deeds. Maker's breath, she was intoxicating. He pulled his thumb out and leaned forward, guiding his cock to her sex and pressing in. She let out a low, shuddering groan as he thrust home, leaning over her to bite the back of her neck as he rocked his hips against her arse. Evelyn buried her face in the pillow, muffling cries of pleasure as he savagely pounded her cunt.

"You're mine," he snarled in her ear. "Mine. Mine. Mine." Each word was punctuated with a brutal lunge. The sweat on Evelyn's back slicked his chest and belly, and her face was so red, she looked like she'd run five miles. He reached forward and grabbed her hair again, pulling her head back so he could pant in her ear as he fucked her, heaving with pleasure as her slick walls sucked at his cock. She chanted a litany of protests, curses, and accusations, but the wet, slurpy sounds her quim made as he moved within her belied her denials of pleasure, and he laughed at her.

"Are you going to come, wife?"

"No!" she cried, but he felt her tightening around him.

"Not yet," Cullen hissed. "I'm going to teach you to take it in the arse and like it. How will you feel, knowing that your brute of a husband can make you come with his cock in your arsehole?"

"Stop," Evelyn whimpered, and Cullen looked at her sharply. She smiled reassuringly and then squeezed her eyes shut. "Please don't fuck me in the arse. I'll do anything you ask, just don't do that."

With effort, Cullen separated his body from hers and then leaned forward, trailing kisses across her shoulders. He nestled his cock between her cheeks, rubbing his hard, wet length in the cleft.

"It's a little late for bargains, wife. I intend to have you this way whenever I want, so you might as well get used to it now. Trust me, my wet little vixen, I can make you like it. I can make you do anything."

He slid his tongue across the back of her neck, and Evelyn moaned. Cullen reached over and grabbed the bottle of oil from the nightstand, sitting back and kneeling between her knees as he coated his fingers. He rubbed the oil across her tight entrance and then slipped a finger inside. Her body didn't offer much resistance, but it had been months since they'd been together at all and he wanted to make sure she was ready for him. He pushed, past his knuckle, all the way in and then pulled out, and she whined.

"You want more, don't you?" he said. She shook her head no, but he ignored her and pushed in again, this time with two fingers. He teased her arse with shallow thrusts, rubbing and spreading as he opened her up for him.

"Cullen?" she said, her voice shaking with need. "I, um. I want it to hurt a little. So, you can go ahead and take me when you're ready."

Cullen frowned. "Evelyn, I don't want to actually hurt you. You haven't had me this way in quite some time."

She sighed. "You won't hurt me very much. It's difficult to explain, but it's sharp at first and then it fades, and sometimes the good feels even better if a little pain comes first. Besides, your awful Avvar character would definitely want to see me wince."

He laughed. "He might, but I'm not sure I do. Do you really think you're ready?"

"Yes," she moaned, flexing her hips and pushing her arse up invitingly. "Fuck me, you brute. I'm going to beg you to stop, of course, but I don't mean it."

"All right," he said. "One brutish bastard on order, about to force himself on your poor little arse. Ready?"

Evelyn laughed. "Ready." She turned and pressed her forehead against the pillow and took a deep breath.

Cullen pulled his fingers out of her arse and poured more oil into his palm, liberally glazing his cock with it. He drizzled a little more directly onto her hole and she hissed when she felt the warm liquid slide down her slit.

"Beg me not to bugger you, and perhaps I'll relent and finish in your cunt."

"You're lying," she said harshly.

"Are you willing to take that chance?"

She went still. "Please don't fuck my arse. Please.  _Please._ "

"If I spare you, will you welcome me enthusiastically in your cunt or your mouth every time your incredible body stirs my lust?"

"Yes," she promised. "I'll be the most willing, eager woman you've ever met, if you'll just use my mouth and my cunt, not my arse. I swear it."

" _You're_ lying," he said with a mean smile, and pressed the tip of his dick against her puckered hole.

"Stop, it hurts," she cried, and Cullen very nearly backed off, for it was almost impossible not to take her words at face value. Instead, he stilled himself for a moment and then cautiously added a little more pressure. Evelyn twisted her hands in her binds and mewled as his cock slowly and relentlessly entered her arse.

"I can do anything I want to you," he growled, "including this."

With those words and a quick thrust, he seated himself fully within her, much more forcefully than he normally would have. She bit down on the pillow and squealed out a long howl, and it sounded so equally like pleasure or pain that Cullen was terrified he had really hurt her. His cock was buried to his balls, the incredibly snug ring of her arsehole squeezing the base of his shaft fiercely, and the hot, soft tunnel beyond felt so good that he couldn't stand to stay still. He slowly pulled out and then thrust back in, slower and more gently than he had the first time. She hiccupped and moaned, tightening around him.

"You like it," he said roughly. "You like my cock in your arse."

"No," she cried. "It's awful. It hurts. Take it out."

"No," he snarled. "This is my arse to fuck, and I'm going to fuck it. I know you like this, you forked-tongued woman. I can feel how you close around me, so soft and tight and hot. I'll make you come, and then I'll make you thank me for it."

"Fuck you," Evelyn snarled.

"Actually, fuck  _you,_ " Cullen spat back. He began moving his hips faster and harder, still keeping his eyes on her face, vigilant for signs that she wasn't enjoying herself. He wormed his hand under her hip until he found her pearl with his fingers and then rubbed it roughly. Evelyn let out a startled yelp and began rocking against him in earnest, pushing back hard whenever he thrust himself all the way deep. Having her arse was always an incredibly intense experience, but this time it was almost more than he could bear. She felt like she was on fire beneath him, her sweat-slicked skin burning beneath his palm as he held her hip and pounded her. The breathless, keening sounds she wailed into the pillow just stoked his desire even more.

"I'm going to come," she moaned, her hands clenching in their binds.

"That's right, you are," he growled, leaning forward as he ruthlessly stroked her clit and filled her body with his cock. "You love being fucked in the arse. Say it."

"I love being fucked in the arse," she repeated dutifully, finally giving in. "Please, just a little more. I'm so close."

"You're so  _mine,_ " Cullen replied, pressing his teeth to her shoulder blade as his cock slid within her, slick and hard and unforgiving. He was nearly there himself, but ladies first, of course. Evelyn's body started to shake beneath him and he saw the tell-tale flush creep across the lovely skin on her back. He pressed his fingers hard against her clit and she gasped, then arched her spine rigidly and screamed into the pillow. The tight ring of her arse pulsed rhythmically around Cullen's cock and it sent him over. He withdrew his hand and leaned forward across her back, harshly crying her name as his orgasm ripped through his body like a tornado. His seed spilled deep inside her body, and he relaxed against her, kissing her shoulder.

"I told you I could bugger you until you came, wife," he teased.

"You were right, husband," she purred.

Cullen's throat tightened unexpectedly. Using the terms "husband" and "wife" for each other in play had only clarified for him how much he wanted them to have real meaning, but they had never discussed such a thing. He knew she loved him, but he felt strangely apprehensive at the idea of broaching the subject. For her part, Evelyn sighed and hummed happily. She often got sleepy after a particularly passionate bout of love-making, and her eyes were drooping now. Cullen reluctantly pulled away from her body and released the binds on her hands and feet. He went to the washroom and cleaned himself up with a damp towel, then brought another one for Evelyn and gently wiped her between her legs.

"Are you all right, sweetling?" he asked as he pulled off her loincloth and thigh bands, then discarded the bands on his arms and the gauntlets on his wrists, as well.

"No one has ever felt as well-fucked as I do right now," she said, with her eyes closed and a contented smile on her face. "I'm very sorry for every single other person in the world."

Cullen chuckled. "Well, don't feel sorry for me, love, because trust me, I feel rather satisfied myself." He took a turn around the room, extinguishing the torches, and then settled in bed beside her, curling around her back.

"Thank you, Cullen. I love you."

"I love you, too, Evelyn. Good night."


End file.
